


Complex Numbers

by Omorka



Category: Real Ghostbusters
Genre: Bisexuality, Gentle Seduction, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-28
Updated: 2009-12-28
Packaged: 2017-10-05 09:21:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/40136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Omorka/pseuds/Omorka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A spirit's influence forces an uncomfortable truth from Egon; Janine and Ray both react in ways he didn't expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Complex Numbers

**Author's Note:**

> Includes a character discovering that his sexuality is broader than his self-applied labels imply. I want to make it clear, here, that my intent is not to have the character in question "go straight" or "go gay," or that I think willpower alone is sufficient to change anyone's sexuality. This is merely a case of someone discovering that their sexuality is more fluid than they thought it was. Originally written for the prompt-quote "black velvet in that little boy smile."

He had, he realized much later, been in denial for a very long time. About Janine, certainly, but not just her; he'd been denying a great many things.

He'd gone with her on one of their many outings that Peter insisted on calling "dates," although Egon certainly didn't. If Janine did, it was outside of his hearing. There were a great number of museums, galleries, and displays in the city, and Janine had gone with him to dozens. Most of the time, she made the invitation; once in a while, he did.

This was one of the latter cases. The Harriman Collection was putting on an exhibition of jewelry, from antique to ancient, and had sent the Ghostbusters an announcement, probably because two of the pieces on display were reputed to be cursed. Ray had been terribly excited about going, and perhaps getting to inspect the Tear of Bastet and the Giant's Eye - and had then realized that he was already committed to a science fiction convention that weekend, and it was only a three-day exhibit.

"Please, Egon, you have to go take some scans," Ray had pleaded. "Peter won't actually look; he'll just flirt with the single women there to check out the diamonds. Winston would do it, but he doesn't always know what to look for. You'll catch anything - any mistakes in the history, any writing, you know, _clues_." And Ray had beamed at him with that trusting grin, and Egon had said yes.

On his way out of the room, Ray had added, "Oh, and the invitation says 'and guest,' so if you wanted to take Janine with you, I'm sure she'd like the eighteenth-century stuff. She likes pearls. I mean, I'm sure she likes diamonds, too, but she always dog-ears pages of magazines with interesting pearl jewelry."

That had sounded ominously like a hint. Ray meant well, but subtlety was not his strong point. Still, he was right - Janine would enjoy the exhibit, and the outing. So Egon had asked her, and she'd almost literally jumped at the chance.

He had, of course, stowed his PKE meter in the pocket of his suit jacket. They'd followed the docent's tour around the exhibit, passing through the small room where the Tear and the Eye were on display, along with a tortoise pendant carved from a huge opal that flashed all the way to violet, and some astonishing flat-polished emeralds. The room with the intricate pearl beadwork was the penultimate stop, and Janine had lingered after the docent moved on, her fingers unconsciously mimicking the motions of the needle that had strung the rhomboid and hexagonal nets.

"You go back and check," she had nodded at the room catty-corner to the pearl room, "and if anyone asks, I hung back and you went to the bathroom."

He had slipped unnoticed into the room again - no point in scaring any of the other patrons if the legends were true - and activated the PKE meter. The Tear of Bastet gave off very strong residual readings, but there was no spirit present. It had merely been in contact with one so powerful that its psychokinetic fingerprints were still measurable what must now be millennia later. Whatever it was, it was stronger than Gozer. The Giant's Eye, on the other hand, gave off no readings whatsoever.

Just out of curiosity, Egon had quickly scanned the rest of the room, and was startled when it gave off active readings - Class Four, and strong for that class - when he pointed the meter at the opal tortoise. His hand reflexively reached back for a thrower that wasn't there.

The surface of the opal shimmered, and a voice echoed in the tiny room, _You do not see me, but your weapon does. I mean no harm. I merely wish to go home._

"Where is home?" Egon had asked, searching the room for any explanation for the voice other than the pendant. He found none.

_The Valley of Dreams,_ the voice had responded. _Your people call it Virgin Valley, but that is inaccurate. It is in the desert far to the west of here._

"I do not think I can arrange for your return," Egon had apologized. "But I will make the attempt."

_I do not trust you,_ the voice had responded, and a flash of dazzling light had sprung from the opal. As Egon regained his vision, the voice continued, _I have enspelled you to only be able to speak the truth. Say it again._

"I will speak to the owner of this display space and see if I can trace who your owner is," Egon had stated carefully. "If I can, I will attempt to convince him or her to return you to your home. But it is unlikely that they will choose to do so."

_That is sad,_ said the pendant wistfully. _But I will hold you blameless as long as you make the attempt, even if you fail._ And he had sensed it dismissing him from its presence.

He'd returned to Janine, and explained what had happened. Upon finding the docent again, they had learned that the pendant was part of the private collection of Justine Harriman, the gallery owner's sister, but the docent had no idea how to contact her.

"Is it dangerous?" the docent had asked. Intending to reassure her, Egon had instead said, "I don't know, but so far it does not appear to be," which hadn't calmed her very far.

Something had changed in Janine's face when he said it, although he couldn't have said what.

It was a short walk back to the subway station from the gallery, but halfway there Janine had stopped and ducked into the alcove of a doorway to a closed cafe. She leaned in on him with a predatory gleam in her eyes. "Are you still hexed to tell the truth?"

He had meant to say "I don't believe so." What came out was "yes."

Her eyes flashed. It was startlingly similar to the way the opal had looked. "Do you love me?"

"Yes, but not the way you want." His ears burned at both halves of the confession.

Still flashing, her eyes had narrowed. "Why? Are you gay?"

His voice had gone still and small. "Yes, for all practical purposes. I have found women attractive emotionally, even romantically, but not sexually."

He had expected her to get angry, maybe even to yell. Instead, she glanced aside and fired more questions at him. "Are you in love with Peter?"

"Not anymore. I was, once, but he broke my heart." He had begged her with his eyes to stop.

"Yeah, he does that. So what you said earlier - are you romantically interested in me?"

"Yes. I enjoy spending time with you, and I find your interest in me intensely flattering. You are very pretty. But I cannot imagine being able to sleep with you as you wish." He was offering information that the geas didn't compel, now, in the hopes that it would be enough to satisfy her curiosity.

"Damn." Her eyes had flickered back up. "So you're bi-romantic but homosexual."

"That is a reasonable description, yes."

She'd run her hand across her face. "_Damn_. I almost wish you'd said you weren't really interested in me at all. Half a loaf, and all."

Then she'd looked him directly in the eyes, and kissed him briefly. It was physically quite pleasant. It warmed his heart like few things ever had. It didn't turn him on in the slightest.

"No offense, Egon," she'd murmured gently, "but I think I need to start seeing other men."

"I'm sorry," he had whispered. "I didn't want to hurt you. I'd hoped this could work out somehow."

"Yeah, me too." The faintest glimmer of tears had shown in her eyes. "I'm still gonna be in love with you for a while. Maybe forever, I dunno. And whoever I end up dating is gonna have to be okay with that, because I'm not gonna abandon you until I know you're happy, too."

They had hugged. It had felt good, to show what they _did_ share. And then they'd gone home in silent understanding.

Egon had explained the situation (with the Class Four, not with Janine) to Ray over the phone, and Ray had made the call to the Harriman Collection. He and Egon had both made their plea to Justine Harriman, who had been surprisingly open; she offered to send the opal pendant to a museum in Reno, Nevada, which was, as she pointed out, at least in the correct state. They had accepted that as a compromise, and hoped the Class Four would, as well. Given that they hadn't heard back from her, at least it didn't appear to be causing trouble in its new home.

At some point later that week, Janine had cried in Peter's office. Peter hadn't been able to meet his gaze for the rest of the day.

And that, he thought, had been the end of it. But denial is a funny thing.

\---

The flowers on her desk were his first clue.

They weren't roses. More accurately, there was one rose, in the center of the bouquet, and it was white at the tips of the petals, with a blushing pink heart. It was surrounded by about a dozen pink carnations, sprays of baby's breath, and several different types of fern, all in a tall aqua vase.

"Very nice," Egon heard Peter comment as he drifted past her desk into his office. "From Egon?"

"Actually, no," Janine answered. "The card didn't say who they were from, but Egon doesn't like carnations." She shuffled her feet on the floor and glanced away, her teeth catching her lower lip.

"But that doesn't mean you don't. I mean, he orders pizza with sausage and pepperoni for me, and he can't stand sausage, either." Venkman sat on the corner of her desk and looked hopeful. "Maybe it's an apology?"

"If it were, he'd have put his name on it," she countered. Peter gave up at that, and slunk into his office.

Later that same day, as they came back from a remarkably uncomplicated bust - they'd chased the Class Three all the way around the fourth floor twice, but the third time their pincer maneuver had worked perfectly and the spook had barely struggled once they'd snared it - Janine handed them the day's mail, and then added "Oh, and Egon, there was a delivery for you. It's up in the lab. I swear it wasn't me."

They exchanged a glance, and all four of them climbed the stairs together. On the lab table was a bouquet of flowers in a tall blue vase. In the center was a single rose, petals tipped with white and deep pink at the base. Around it were about a dozen red cup fungi, in a bed of baby's breath and several types of fern.

The card had no name on it. He turned and glared at Peter. "If this is a joke . . . "

The color drained from Peter's face as he thrust his arms out, palms up and open. "Nuh-uh, big guy. Not me. I may be a jerk, but I'm not that kind of a jerk."

Egon barely glanced at the other two Ghostbusters, who were looking at each other with expressions somewhere between confusion and suppressed laughter.

\---

The night the tropical storm (in the process of becoming extratropical, Egon had noted at the time, although that didn't change the fact that they were getting drenched) caused street flooding so bad Janine couldn't get home, the four of them made up a bed on the couch for her. She kept a couple of spare sets of clothes there already, in case Slimer got a little too affectionate, so all she really needed was a place to sleep. Then they'd found that water was being driven in off of the roof entrance into the attic, and they'd attacked the leaks with towels, caulk, and some rubber tubing from the lab.

At that point, they were all soaked, so they took turns with the third floor shower. Winston, with his experience in construction, had done more than his share of the work, so they all agreed he got to go first. Then Peter claimed the bathroom, and took forever, as he often did. The remaining three drew straws, and Egon got the long one, so he went next; by then, the water was only lukewarm.

When he got out, neither Ray nor Janine were waiting outside. He toweled off his hair and checked the bunkroom; Peter was already asleep, and Winston was propped up against the wall reading a mystery novel and nodding off.

He padded down the spiral stairs to find Ray and Janine sitting side-by-side on the sofa. Ray had his arm draped across her shoulders, and their heads were together. He couldn't hear their conversation, and given how likely it was that he was the topic, he decided that not eavesdropping was more important than letting them know the shower was free. The hot water heater could use a while to catch up, anyway.

He lay in the darkness listening to the pounding of the rain against the windows, calculating estimates for the wind speed and direction based on the sound. It was over an hour before he got to sleep, but Ray still hadn't arrived by the time he dropped off.

When he woke in the morning, the sky was a racing flock of scudding gray clouds, and Ray was deeply asleep. His body was skew across the bed, his hair wildly tousled; he'd obviously gone to sleep with it still wet. Normally, Ray was their morning person, but Egon decided to let him sleep in; he seemed exhausted, though a tiny, boyish smile hovered on his lips. Egon crept downstairs to the kitchen, passing Janine on the way.

He rarely saw her asleep, and usually when he did, she was in a hospital waiting room propped in a chair. Here, her red hair splashed across the borrowed pillow, she looked peaceful, bonelessly relaxed in a way he'd never seen her before.

Something stirred in his chest. The urge to play Prince Charming, to wake her with a kiss, was almost overwhelming, but that wasn't fair to her. He snuck into the kitchen and started the coffee machine.

She and Ray slept through Winston's waking and arrival. It wasn't until Peter dragged himself out of bed that they joined Egon and Winston for breakfast.

"Man, Ray, were you up late or what? You _never_ sleep later than me," Peter commented groggily, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"Yeah, kinda." Ray's cheeks flushed. Egon raised an eyebrow. What _had_ they been talking about?

\---

"Hey, Egon," Ray called out as he bounced into the lab, "wanna run some errands with me and grab some dinner?"

Egon turned around. "I'm working on the ectoplasmic shunt system, Ray. Can't you get Winston to go with you?"

The engineer looked faintly embarrassed. "One of the stops is the Mystic Web. I know Winston _says_ it doesn't bother him, but really, it still does, a little."

Egon regarded him with a probing look. "And why can't you go by yourself?"

"Peter's out on a date, and Janine's gone home, and I really don't want to eat alone. Please, Egon?" Ray's eyes were big, and his lower lip was stuck out just a little, and Egon relented. "All right. Give me ten minutes to finish this stage, and I can let this rest for a while."

They ended up taking Ecto, not because any of Ray's stops were inaccessible by the subway but because he had a very large shopping list. Their first stop was a comic shop, and Egon groaned inwardly, but it was refreshingly brief; Ray just picked up a stack of comics he'd pre-ordered. Egon idly flipped through them while Ray was paying and chatting with the clerk; the only one he recognized was the latest issue of Captain Steel.

Their second stop was an electronics parts store. Ray picked up the components on the list fairly quickly, but the two of them spent over an hour browsing, discussing what they could use in the various devices that littered the lab and the workshop. It had been a long time since Egon and Ray had done this together; these days, much of what the physicist used was so specialized that it was simpler to get it by mail-order. But this brought back memories of the two of them prowling through a Radio Shack, shouting back and forth across the store as they selected the pieces that would become their second (or third, or fourth) attempt at a working PKE meter, as Peter lounged at the front of the store alternately looking bored and flirting with the checkout clerk.

They left with twice as many components as they'd intended, and a pair of broad smiles. "Gosh, I'd missed doing that with you," Ray murmured as they stashed their haul next to the pack rack. A hand fell on Egon's as he secured the last bag, and squeezed gently. He glanced at Ray, slightly startled by the touch, but the boyish smile the younger man gave him wiped away any misgivings. He squeezed back, and Ray's smile became positively beatific.

The third stop was, as promised, the Mystic Web. Egon found the occult store slightly off-putting, with its artistically musty corners and cheap, flashy Renaissance Faire jewelry, but occasionally something useful turned up in their book section, and Ray kept a stock of herbs and resins in the downstairs workshop in case one of their busts required a ritual solution. He was leaning on the counter watching the shopkeeper weigh out powdered copal while Egon perused the bookshelves. The physicist had just about decided that they hadn't restocked since the last time he'd been there, over six months ago, when a small, recently published book caught his eye. He slid it out from between its neighbors with one long finger, picked it up, and flipped through it.

Ray popped up behind him. "Find something, Egon?"

Egon pointed to the illustration on the page. "Just a reference work on the use of Tarot cards for focused precognition. Probably nothing useful."

Ray shrugged. "Well, I'd like to take a look at it, and Peter might get something out of it. I know he prefers Zener cards to Tarot, but then, he spent all that time at the carnival dealing with Madame Whatsherface. If a woman three times my age had been hitting on me, I might not have taken a shine to her tools of the trade, either."

Egon chuckled. "I didn't get the impression that he minded, exactly." Peter's stories about that summer were comical, to be sure, but Peter never actually said he'd turned the fortuneteller down.

"Fair enough," Ray snickered back, and added the book to the bag of herbs he'd collected at the counter.

The last thing on Ray's list was grocery shopping, and they both agreed that doing that while hungry was not a good idea. Peter was the picky eater of their group, having a decided preference for Chinese, Italian, and plain old American diner fare over most other cuisines. Ray and Egon decided to take the opportunity to visit a Vietnamese cafe that was more or less on the way to the supermarket.

Ray asked for an Vietnamese iced coffee; Egon settled for green tea. Egon ordered in Vietnamese, Ray in English; the waiter seemed to understand them both equally well, and didn't appear to be surprised by Egon's fluency. They sipped at their beverages and talked about the minutia of the week so far - the issues Ecto was having with its radiator, Peter's fussing about the credit card billing, whether Slimer was learning new vocabulary or just using some of his less common words more often, whose turn it was to do the laundry this week.

Their pho arrived, and for a while they sat in companionable silence, sipping at the broth and scooping at the noodles. The entrees - nem nuong meatballs for Ray, chicken with lemongrass for Egon - arrived just as they were finishing, and Ray dove directly into his. Spengler was slowing down at that point - his lanky frame was due more to his metabolism than any particular gustatory restraint on his part, but he'd never had the sort of appetite that Ray had.

So he waited until Ray was chasing the last meatball around the plate with his chopsticks before observing, "You've been spending a lot of time with Janine lately."

Ray set his chopsticks down and took a sip of water before answering, "Well, she's kind of needed a friend." He looked back at Egon, his expression softening, and added, "Not that you aren't her friend, too. I know you are, and more. But - I mean - "

"When I'm the issue in her life she needs to discuss with someone, I can hardly expect her to discuss it with me," Egon finished. He set his own chopsticks down next to the half-cleaned plate. "I appreciate your doing so, Ray. It was never my intent to cause her discomfort." This was harder than he'd expected. He cleared his throat, nervously.

Ray smiled, and once again his thick-fingered hand closed around Egon's long, narrow one. "It's all right, Egon. I knew you'd understand. She'll be fine; these things just - they take a little time, is all."

The waiter chose that moment to arrive with the check. Ray plucked a bill from his wallet, handed it to the young Asian man, and said "Keep the change, and can we have a to-go box?"

"Ray, I can pay for myself," protested Egon, slightly ruffled.

Ray shook his head, the smile never wavering. "Nah. My treat, okay?"

The grocery shopping went quickly enough. Ray was the member of the team with the least skill at cooking, so when he did the shopping, he bought whatever the others had put on the list, plus a half dozen boxes of macaroni and cheese and several jars of spaghetti sauce. Egon, on the other hand, was no great chef but could follow a recipe as well as a lab manual; he picked up some fresh produce along with eggs and milk, which weren't on the list but which he knew they were out of. They were done in about thirty minutes, not counting the time spent waiting in line, which they passed reading the tabloid headlines and debating which stories were true, which were exaggerations, and which were simply flights of fancy.

Ray pointed at one that claimed the Ghostbusters were really the advance guard of the alien Secret Masters who would soon take over the world. "Well, we know that one's wrong."

"Indeed. Venkman would never be able to keep his membership in so prestigious a group a secret." Egon delivered the line with a straight face, which made Ray's guffaws stand out that much more.

It was late, but not terribly so, when they pulled Ecto-1 into the garage. Ray unloaded the day's haul onto Janine's desk and ran the supplies from the occult shop down to the basement workshop. Egon waited at the foot of the stairs, rather than carting the groceries up without Ray, not because he was worried about making two trips to Ray's one but because he was unsure whether carrying food up to the kitchen alone was a good idea until he knew where Slimer was.

He glanced at the desk. A Polaroid was stuck face-down under a sandstone paperweight. Egon idly removed it and flipped it over.

Ray's guileless grin greeted him from the center of the shot. He was stripped to the waist, and sitting on a bed Egon didn't recognize. He looked . . . very relaxed.

In fact, he would have said Ray was giving the camera a come-hither look, except that that implied a certain level of, well, guile.

The thought of Ray looking at someone with those bedroom eyes did something very strange to the pit of Egon's stomach. Not unpleasant, however.

Egon replaced the photo precisely where it had been. He hadn't expected Janine to turn to Ray in quite _that_ way for comfort, but, he realized, better that she do so with someone she already knew and trusted. After a few minutes of rumination, he decided that it wasn't his business, and even if it had been, he didn't mind.

He was even happy for them, although there was a certain wistful edge for what might have been between himself and Janine.

Ray emerged from the basement. "Okay, let's get this stuff in the fridge. If Slimer shows, let me handle him - I got him some cookies; they're in the bag on the left."

Egon followed his younger partner up the stairs. Were Ray's jeans tighter than usual? They looked new; perhaps Janine was giving him clothing tips. Egon suddenly realized where he was staring, and forced his eyes off to the side. Slimer came barreling up, right on schedule, and Ray tossed him the box of cookies as a sacrifice to distract him long enough for them to make it to the kitchen unmolested.

"You really didn't have to help, Egon," Ray said as they set the last jar of spaghetti sauce in the pantry. "It was my turn, after all."

Egon shrugged. "I . . . enjoyed spending the time with you, Ray." It was true. The four of them were friends; Egon, Ray, and Peter had been so long before they opened the business - but so often they related to each other mostly as coworkers when they were busy. He hadn't had a nice evening with just Ray in a very long time.

"Me, too, Egon. I'm so glad you said that." Ray beamed at him, and then slid both arms around his taller partner and drew him into a warm hug. Egon was a little surprised, but he reciprocated. The embrace felt . . . nice.

Suddenly Egon remembered the feel of Ray's hand on his, and the look he was giving the camera in the photo downstairs. The room abruptly felt warmer.

Just before letting go, it felt like Ray pressed his lips to the corner of Egon's jaw, so quickly Egon wasn't sure it had happened. "Thanks, Egon, I needed that," whispered Ray, and then he was off chasing Slimer down before he raided the newly-stocked pantry. Egon pressed one hand to his jawline, astonished.

He considered chasing after Ray and asking whether that had happened, and if so, what it meant. Instead, he shook his head and headed back up to the lab to think.

\---

"Hey, Egon, you, uh, you got a minute?" Peter was hovering in the doorway to the lab. That was not a good sign; Peter was never tentative about things like that. If he wanted to be someplace, then he was there. If he didn't, he wasn't.

"I will as soon as the centrifuge starts up," answered Egon, adding three more stoppered vials of ectoplasm to the ring already in the chamber. "Just a moment." He worked in silence while Peter waited; he'd come all the way into the room, but he was still hovering.

Egon closed the chamber and programmed the centrifuge - number of rotations, time, chamber pressure and temperature. It started up with a satisfying mechanical whine. The scientist picked his way across the lab to the slightly ratty secondhand couch, and sat down. "What can I help you with, Peter?"

The brunet glanced around as if he were looking for something, then settled on the far end of the sofa. He looked distinctly uncomfortable. "Uh, has Ray talked to you about, um, him and Janine . . . ?" He ended with a vague wave of one hand.

"Yes, although not in any detail." Egon regarded Peter with a cool blue look. "Why?"

"I, ah, I wanted to make sure that you were really okay with it." Venkman looked away, a flicker of guilt flashing across his face.

Egon sighed. "To some extent, I have not finished processing my own feelings regarding Janine. There are some . . . unarticulated regrets, on my part. But she and Ray seem happy together, and I am happy for her." He looked across at his partner, who was listening intently. "I'm not jealous, if that's what you're asking. I am merely a little sad that I failed to make our relationship work."

Peter relaxed a bit. "Okay. I - she said you were fine with it, and you didn't look fine to me, but you weren't showing any built-up resentment towards Ray, so I was having trouble figuring out how you actually felt." He chuckled a bit. "And the team psychologist was falling down on the job again. Um, you know she came and talked to me a few nights after you guys broke up, right?"

"I noticed." There was a hint of amusement in Egon's bass rumble; Peter's office was not exactly private.

Peter looked uncomfortable again, and glanced out the window. "Did I really break your heart, big guy?"

Egon sighed again, more deeply this time. So _that_ was what this was about. "Under normal circumstances, I would assure you that no, of course you didn't, that my feelings at the time were no more than a schoolboy's crush. From about a year after that conversation occurred until the moment Janine asked me if I were in love with you, I more or less believed that myself. But - the spell compelled the truth from me, and I said you did." He shook his head. "And that was certainly how it felt at the time." He rubbed at his eyes and re-adjusted his glasses. "I apologize if my quasi-involuntary confession to Janine made you uncomfortable about the incident again."

"You're not the one who needs to apologize," Peter said, softly. "I at least owed it to you to let you down easy."

"Those were different times," shrugged Egon. "A confession of love from a friend of the same gender came as more of a shock back then, I would imagine."

"That's true, but it doesn't excuse my being a jerk about it," Peter argued. "I hadn't thought about it in years when Janine mentioned that you said that. I had sort of filed that under 'Situations defused by the Venkman charm,' but after she told me, I reconsidered it. I may have managed not to call you anything ugly, and obviously our friendship survived both of our clumsiness about the whole thing, but thinking back on it - when someone hands you their heart, it's bad form to go 'ewww' and drop it. And that's pretty much exactly what I did." Peter drew his knees to his chest and met Egon's gaze directly. "I'm sorry."

For a moment, Egon didn't know what to say. A direct apology from Venkman - more, one that appeared to be heartfelt - was rarer than pearls.

"Thank you, Peter," he murmured.

Peter shifted. "And - I realize this is awfully late in the game - but Janine explained how you felt about her. The bi-romantic but gay thing. And," he continued before Egon could interrupt him, "that's actually sort of, I don't know if it was true at the time but it is now, how I feel about you. We're closer than brothers, and I really count on that closeness emotionally. It's all there in the heart, just not below the waist." A brief blush colored Peter's pale cheeks.

"Really?" It wasn't one of Egon's better comebacks, but this confession was totally unexpected.

"Yeah." Peter grinned at him. "Not that that makes things any simpler. Given the situation with Ray and Janine, I suspect it makes things more complicated. But - I kind of felt like I needed to tell you." He stood up. "Not that I'm going to make a habit of pouring out my feelings to you or anything."

"No more than usual," teased Egon. But he was smiling.

\---

The two new bouquets of flowers that arrived on Janine's desk were identical to the first ones - aqua and blue vases, baby's breath and ferns, pink carnations and red cap fungus - except for the roses in the centers. Janine's was deep red. Egon's was a light pink at the tips and that same deep red at the center.

"You sure you're not sending these to each other?" Peter eyed the decorative mushrooms warily.

"I think I'd remember sending Egon toadstools," answered Janine dryly. Egon refrained from explaining precisely why 'toadstool' was an inaccurate nomenclature for these mycological specimens.

Peter sniffed cautiously at the rose in Egon's floral arrangement. "Then I think I'm jealous. How did you two end up with secret admirers, and not yours truly?" He gestured at his heart melodramatically.

Egon glanced down the stairs to the basement. He caught the briefest glimpse of auburn hair retreating behind the heavy door.

\---

"Hey, Egon, you got a minute?" Ray didn't wait for a response before wandering into the lab. He perched on the edge of the table as Egon settled another slide onto the stage of the ectomicroscope.

"Just a moment, Ray." This sample didn't seem to have properties significantly different from the last three he'd tested - or, if it did, they weren't visible at this scale. Egon adjusted the fine-focus knob and changed the light from the regular florescent bulb to an ultraviolet one. No visible change, except that now the ectoplasm was luminescing slightly. He removed the slide and set it into its slot in the sample box, and turned to Ray. "I still think we're missing something about the current pattern of manifestations. Their ectoplasmic residues are far more tenacious than we've previously encountered."

Ray shrugged. "Well, it's possible that we're getting ghosts leaking over from a different part of the Netherworld than previously, or from another dimension altogether. But wouldn't fluctuations in temperature and humidity also affect ectoplasmic consistency? We'd technically be in the middle of a drought if it hadn't been for all the flooding a month ago."

"Possibly. I should test some samples from Slimer against different environmental conditions." Egon switched off the ectomicroscope. "What do you need, Ray?"

Ray smiled, shyly. "Well, if you put it that way . . . "

"What?" Egon had lost the thread of the conversation already.

The younger Ghostbuster slid closer. "I've been thinking about things, Egon. I realize that this may come across as kind of sudden to you, but it really isn't." Carefully, he wriggled in between Egon and the table. There wasn't really enough space, and Egon tried to step back, but Ray's hand on his shoulder stopped him. "I mean, we've known each other for a long time, right?"

"Fifteen years. Ray, what . . . " Egon was interrupted by Ray's arms encircling his waist. That was definitely an embrace. The room was suddenly much warmer.

Ray was still smiling, an innocent grin, almost childlike - except for the slight smoldering undertone. Egon suddenly recognized that look; it was the same one he'd had in the photograph on Janine's desk. "Egon, aren't you ever lonely?"

"Sometimes," he admitted. "But why are you giving me bedroom eyes, Ray?" Egon managed to keep his voice level.

"Because I'd really like to make love with you," Ray answered simply.

"You . . . wait, _what_?" Egon felt as if the entire room had shifted by forty-five degrees underneath his feet.

Ray leaned a little closer and reached up to lay one hand gently against Egon's rapidly coloring cheek. "I think it would be good for both of us. And a lot of fun."

Egon managed to make the list of objections that had immediately presented themselves stand still, and grabbed the top one. "I thought you were sleeping with Janine."

"Oh, we are. Sleeping together, I mean. But we're not exclusive; we discussed it and we decided we didn't want to have a closed relationship. I mean, she's still a lot more in love with you than she is with me, for one thing." Ray's amber eyes studied Egon's face carefully. "And I don't want to limit her if she decides she wants a life outside the firehouse, either, although honestly, I don't think that's going to happen."

Egon blinked and continued. "Second, I thought you were straight."

Ray laughed. "Oh, no. I don't - I mean, technically, I'd be bisexual, but really, it's more like biological sex, male and female, is pretty much irrelevant for me. The things I find attractive about people are more about personalities and behavior than they are about their bodies." He pressed up a little closer against the physicist. "Not that I don't enjoy bodies, I mean; I do, a lot. But they're not what's really important, for me."

"Does Peter know?" Egon wasn't sure why he'd asked that; he was pretty sure it wasn't relevant.

"He knows I'm bi, if that's what you're asking." Ray shrugged. "I mean, he gave us all that Kinsey scale survey when he was taking Human Sexuality." He drew Egon a little closer with the arm still around his waist. "I don't think he knows I'm trying to get you into bed, though."

"Well, no, that's not really relevant to him." The room really was getting warmer; Egon was sure of it. He was also starting to respond, in some embarrassing ways, to Ray's physical proximity. Still, he didn't try to extricate himself from the embrace.

"So, what do you think?" Ray murmured, rising up on his tip-toes.

Egon shook his head slightly. "I'm not sure . . . " Ray shut him up with a kiss. His lips were thick on Egon's, and there was a hint of a tremor in them.

Egon gave in and lowered himself into the kiss with a sigh. Ray's mouth was wet and unspeakably greedy on his; his hunger sparked something electric near the base of Egon's spine. Whatever misgivings his mind might have, he observed, his body seemed only too glad to respond to Ray's overtures.

Still, he wasn't about to let his concern go unvoiced. "Are you sure you really want this?" Egon asked, as Ray pulled back to catch his breath.

"Of course. I love all you guys, you know that." Ray gestured in the direction of the bunkroom. "And sex is just a natural outgrowth of that, if you're interested." He paused, and for the first time he looked unsure, biting his plump lower lip gently. "I mean, if you really aren't interested, I don't want to pressure you or anything. But - you feel like you need it." He shifted his weight in a way that rubbed the roundness of his belly against Egon's groin. "Maybe 'need' is too strong, but like you could really use it."

Egon was about to protest that this was too sudden when he realized he'd known who the flowers were from when the first bouquet arrived. So, he couldn't exactly claim that it was a surprise that something was up.

Which brought him back to the question: was he, in fact, interested in having sex with Ray?

He closed his eyes to ponder the question. Images of Peter and Janine flashed past; he dismissed them and focused on everything he'd ever felt and thought about Ray.

A pair of warm, square hands gently rubbed at his arms, and the hair on the back of his neck stood on end.

Oh, yes, he was interested, all right. He'd managed not to think about Ray that way before by classifying him as the younger brother he'd never had, but setting that aside - he wasn't handsome in the way that Peter was (or Winston, if Egon let himself think about that), but his enthusiasm and energy were contagious under wholly innocent circumstances. If he was half as manic in bed . . . .

Egon opened his eyes. "I think I'm interested in trying it as an experiment, at least." He was aware how clinical the words sounded as soon as they left his lips, but Ray showed no sign of disappointment or hurt; quite the opposite - his eyes lit up with excitement.

"That's great, Egon!" Ray practically skipped across the room and latched the lab door.

Egon swallowed, his adam's apple dancing. "You, er, don't think we'll disturb the others?"

"Depends on whether you're a screamer or not," Ray answered, teasingly. Egon shot him a blank look. Ray relented, "All right, I tipped off Winston that I wanted you to myself for the evening, so he'll be down working on Ecto until late. And Peter's working on end-of-the-month bills. If he stops before ten, Janine will have his hide in the morning, because he won't be finished."

"You've put a great deal of forethought into this," observed Egon as Ray laced the fingers of his left hand through Egon's right and led him to the couch.

Ray looked up at him with the gently smoldering expression again. "Egon, I've been thinking about how to get you into bed since I met you. It just never quite seemed like the right time before." He settled into the threadbare cushions; Egon carefully seated himself next to him. As soon as he was in place, Ray curled his arms around him and began nuzzling the long expanse of his neck.

"I suppose I always thought of you as something of an innocent," Egon murmured, his hands exploring Ray's shoulders.

"Peter thinks of both of us that way," Ray chuckled. His hands slid down Egon's back. "I sort of am, by his standards anyway. I mean, I don't wear my dick on my sleeve. Wait, that wasn't the best way to describe that, but I think you know what I mean." He nipped at Egon's earlobe; the taller man shivered. "I don't feel pressured to talk about it much, I guess. But I don't think there's anything guilty about sex. For Peter, there's still something dirty about it, or at least naughty. For me, it's just - if there's love there, then why not express that physically?" The words buzzed, warm and breathy, in Egon's ear.

"It doesn't work like that for me," admitted Egon. "If it did - "

"If it did, then you and Janine would be happy together," finished Ray. He reached up to lay a flurry of tiny pecks down the length of Egon's jaw, half-climbing into his lap. "I understand that. It doesn't work the same, exactly, for anyone." He kissed Egon with equal parts tenderness and hunger. "But my point here is, I want you." He tugged lightly at Egon's suspenders. "I want _you_, here, now. I love you." One button, two, three came undone under his fingers. "I love you, Egon, and I want to feel you, all of you. I want to make you happy." His hands trailed inside the opened shirt, across Egon's ribs and down the tight muscles of his stomach. "May I?"

"Yes," whispered Egon. His whole body was vibrating, it felt like; it had been far, far too long since he'd done this with anyone. He let Ray slip his shirt and suspenders the rest of the way off, and somehow the rest of his clothes - and Ray's - followed without either of them getting off the couch, or losing physical contact with each other. Ray's skin was warm, smooth, softly fuzzy.

He wasn't quite sure how long they spent just exploring, stroking, touching. Egon remembered running his hands through Ray's hair, brushing the backs of his legs with the palms of his hands, exploring his nipples with his tongue and watching his partner throw his head back and writhe. He remembered Ray tracing the hollows of his hips with his fingers, tasting the skin of his neck, massaging his way down Egon's back. In between, they explored each other's mouths, lips gently caught between teeth, tongues slipping past each other, breathing together.

Then Ray was lying beneath him, holding tight to his shoulders, and they were arching their hips into each other, their erections sliding past each other, slick with sweat and other fluids. Ray's eyes were closed; he was panting, each breath coming faster as he rolled his hips into Egon with increasing desperation. His face was red with heat and a hint of exertion; Egon was sure he was a ruddy mess, as well.

"Ray," he whispered, "you're beautiful." He meant it.

Ray's eyes flickered open. "You . . . just have . . . a thing . . . for redheads."

Egon blinked at him, almost interrupting their rhythm. Then he laughed, a deep belly-laugh that shook the sofa. Ray closed his eyes again and _keened_, his hands spasming tight onto Egon's shoulders; his legs tightened, and suddenly there was warmth and wetness between them.

Egon watched his face as he came. Ray looked like an angel, or at least like a saint in ecstasy. It made Egon want to believe in something. Not God, exactly, but perhaps Eros. It was also incredibly hot.

Egon lowered his head onto Ray's shoulder and let his hips move by instinct. Ray's breathing slowed in his ear, and then resolved into a low moan of his name: "Egon, Egon, . . ."

"Oh, god, Ray, hold me," Egon begged, and felt Ray's arms wrap even tighter around him. Something unfolded at the base of his spine, curled upwards, throbbed twice, and then burst magnificently; Egon cried "Ray!" followed by a wordless moan as he was swallowed by the pulsing light.

"Mmmm," sighed Ray, shifting slightly under Egon and bringing the older man back to physical reality. Ray's eyes were open again, rings of amber around pools of blackness, all under heavy lids. "That was _gorgeous_, Egon. I want to see you do that again."

"Not right away, I'm afraid," murmured Egon. "I'm not as young as I used to be."

"Don't care how long it takes," answered Ray, a touch of sleepiness coloring his voice. "Tonight, tomorrow, next week - I just want to watch you come over and over again."

"I would enjoy that a great deal, Ray," Egon smiled.

\---

The next pair of bouquets both had deep red roses in the centers. Peter called six different florists when he thought Janine couldn't hear, trying to find out where they were coming from, if not who.

"I'm beginning to think he was telling the truth when he said he was jealous," she muttered under her breath as Egon passed her desk.

"Perhaps. But of whom?" he asked.

\---

Ecto-1 pulled into the garage late in the afternoon and disgorged four men in various states of sliming. Peter, for once, hadn't gotten the worst of it; that would be Ray, who was coated from head to boots with a light pink ectoplasm that clashed with his hair. Egon and Peter had each taken a sideswiping; Egon was wet from his left ear down his arm and side to his knee, and Peter dripped from his right side about mid-rib to his ankle. Winston had only been splattered, but pinkish droplets decorated him liberally from the waist up.

"Uuugghh," groaned Peter, speaking for all of them. Janine watched them peel Ray out of the back seat and set him on his feet again.

Egon retrieved the blinking trap from the cargo hold. "Let me run this downstairs. I'll be right back." He disappeared down the basement stairway, squishing slightly as he went.

"Normally, I'd make a big show of running for the shower, after a sliming like this," proclaimed Peter, nose wrinkling, "but in this case I think I have to admit you need it more, Ray." He bowed, gesturing up the stairs. "After you."

"Hold on a moment," Ray huffed, holding onto the firepole with the crook of his elbow. "I need to get these boots off; otherwise, I'll either slip and fall back down the stairs, or leave enough slime that someone else will."

Winston rummaged around in his locker. "Here, Ray," he called, handing the shorter man a shoehorn, "you'll never get enough traction to get them off that way."

"Thanks," Ray murmured, and fumbled at his boot laces. Egon returned just as he levered the second shoe off.

Janine waited until Ray was on the stairs, then asked, "Are we still on for the movie tonight?"

"Yeah, if we don't have any more calls," Ray answered, nodding enthusiastically. Then his eyes lit. "Hey, Egon, are you busy tonight? You could come with us."

Peter, standing on the opposite side of Janine's desk, met Egon's eyes and shook his head 'no.' Janine beamed. Winston looked at Ray, confused. Egon turned back to Ray and answered, "I'd be glad to. Are you both going to dinner first?"

"We certainly could," Ray replied, beaming almost as brightly as Janine. Now that Egon understood, his intent was as clear as glass. Egon glanced back at Janine to check; she was giving Ray a look that was two parts gratitude and one part triumph.

Egon had been quite pleased, so far, with the progress of his and Ray's relationship; it had been a month of self-discovery for him. Among other things, he'd realized precisely how much he'd been sublimating his libido into his research. Oddly enough, though, when he subtracted the amount of time he and Ray had spent dallying, he hadn't been any less productive than normal during the rest of the time. In fact, he'd had several minor breakthroughs relating to the quasimolecular composition of ectoplasm. Nothing worth publishing yet, but still, it was more progress than he'd had in the previous six weeks.

It also gave him something of an appreciation for why Peter spent so much of his time trying to get laid. If Ray ever changed his mind, or decided that he and Janine were going to be exclusive, Egon was not only going to be heartbroken, he was going to miss the sex terribly.

Not that he was actually worried about that. Especially not when Janine looked like that at the prospect of a double date, as it were.

Egon drifted back over to Ecto as Ray disappeared up the stairs. Winston was leaning through the driver's side rear door, muttering "What a mess."

"Do you need me to retrieve the solvents from the basement?" Egon offered.

Winston shook his head. "Nah, I think the simplest thing to do is to let it air out and dry overnight, and then vacuum it in the morning. But I'd appreciate it if you'd help me swab out the floor mats."

"Certainly," Egon agreed, as Winston went to fill a couple of buckets.

A few minutes later, Peter drifted over. "Here, let me at one." Both Winston and Egon raised and eyebrow at that - Peter offering to work? - but handed him a mat and a clean rag.

A few minutes later, Peter launched into the conversation Egon suspected was coming. "Hey, Spengs, not to gripe at you or anything, but you really shouldn't have taken Ray up on his offer."

Egon decided to play it straight. "Why not? I enjoy spending time with both Janine and Ray. I haven't had the opportunity to see Janine outside of the firehouse for several weeks. I have no reason to think that either one of them is averse to my company."

Peter sighed and rolled his eyes at his colleague's social cluelessness. "Egon, do you know what 'cock-blocking' is?"

"Only because you accused me of it several times during our college years." Egon allowed himself a small smile of amusement.

"Well, if you're going out with a couple on a Friday evening, that's exactly what you're doing," finished Peter.

Egon rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Ray is the one who asked me to come along. Or are you suggesting that I am interfering with Janine's sexual plans for the evening?"

Peter frowned, and opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again and glanced at Janine's desk. She was grinning like the cat who caught the canary, including a slight predatory glint to her eyes. Peter shook his head slightly. "She's still hung up on you, you know."

Guilt stole across Egon's brow. "I am well aware."

"Don't you think that by hanging out with them, you're just encouraging her to have hope when there isn't any?" Peter's voice was gentle, but his eyes were suspicious.

"Do you really think that little of Ray?" Egon let his voice slide all the way to scolding, and Peter blinked, startled. A slow flush of embarrassment crept across his cheeks.

"No, of course not," Peter lied. "I just - I mean, he's fighting what, six years of unrequited love?"

"I don't think he's fighting it, exactly," Egon argued. "And it wasn't love that was unrequited."

"Huh?" Peter asked, just before Ray called down through the firepole opening, "Shower's free!" The psychologist bounced to his feet. "That's my cue. See you guys in five!"

Winston watched him bound up the stairs. "Just so I'm clear on this, because I don't think Ray would do this and I'd be surprised if you did, but I'm not so sure about Janine - are you all messing with Peter's head on purpose?"

"No, although I admit that I am finding his confusion amusing," Egon admitted. "Why?"

The oldest Ghostbuster shook his head. "I'm not sure I understand what's going on, either, but as long as you're all happy with it, it's none of my business. For Peter," he continued, "if it involves you two, he feels it's his business by definition."

"Do you want to know?" Egon offered.

Winston thought about that. "I will once you all figure out what the shape of it is. I don't need to hear about you taking measurements, and it feels like that's still where you are."

"For all that Peter is a trained observer of human nature, you often outdo him." Egon finished scrubbing the floor mat he'd been holding and hung it over a sawhorse to dry.

"Just don't leave me in the dark because you think I won't like it, okay?" Winston tried to sound reassuring. "Just because it's not my scene doesn't mean I won't understand."

Egon shook his head. "I'm more worried about that with Peter, to be honest."

"I would be, too, except I can't imagine Ray doing something that he thought would hurt him, either," mused Winston, finishing with his mat and picking up the one Peter had left half-cleaned.

\---

Dinner had been sandwiches at a lovely little deli in Janine's neighborhood. Ray had picked the movie, and it had been far too full of explosions for Egon's taste (or, from her reactions, Janine's), but the plot, while clearly space opera, had been complex enough for Egon to not be bored, and Ray was thrilled from the opening chords to the closing credits.

Then they were back at Janine's apartment, sitting in her living room and talking about the film. Janine had opened a bottle of cheap white wine, but none of them were really drinking much of it. Ray and Janine were sitting on her couch, with her feet in his lap. Egon was in the chair facing the coffee table.

"It's really astonishing what they're doing with special effects these days," Janine said, gesturing with the wineglass. "I mean, it really did feel like the ships were weightless in the dogfight shots."

"That _is_ one of the advantages of using computers to do the effects shots," agreed Ray. "I mean, a model or a puppet never really looks weightless unless you're floating it in a water tank, and then if it's buoyant it still doesn't look right."

"Spoken like someone who knows something about buoyancy," Janine giggled, and rubbed his belly playfully.

Egon smiled ruefully. "Ray, did you always float, even as a child?"

Ray snorted, splashing droplets from his glass back into his face. "Like a cork. I was pudgy as a kid, and then gangly as a teenager, and now I'm back to pudgy."

"I would have said plump," observed Egon.

"Zaftig," offered Janine, grinning.

Ray reached over with the hand that wasn't juggling a half-full goblet. "Egon, get over here. There's plenty of room on the couch."

Egon raised an eyebrow. "For what?" he asked, as he slid behind Ray.

Ray grinned and reclined, switching positions with Janine so than now his feet were in her lap, and his head in Egon's. "This."

Janine pouted. "Ray, now you're being self-indulgent."

"True, but is that such a bad thing?" He smiled at her, his eyelids already at half-mast. "I mean, I have the two most gorgeous people in all of New York here; I'd have to be a fool not to enjoy it."

"Too bad number three is the biggest fool in New York," murmured Janine. Egon blinked, but she wasn't looking at him.

Ray's hands drifted up Egon's sleeves. "Mmm, come down here."

The scientist was acutely aware of Janine's gaze on them as he and the engineer kissed. When he glanced up, there were traces of wistfulness and perhaps a tinge of jealousy in her eyes, but they were utterly swamped by lust. Apparently, watching two men she loved sharing their love was a turn-on for her. He'd guessed that, but actually seeing it was something different.

He realized that being able to turn her on like that was, in turn, intensely erotic for him. It was startling how much he was learning about himself as a sexual being.

As one thing led to another, they were already half naked by the time Janine announced that the couch was bad for her back, and wouldn't they be more comfortable on a bed? Ray readily agreed, and Egon concurred, and by the time they were sprawled on her mattress - a new, larger one, Egon noted, which was why he hadn't recognized the bed in Ray's photograph - they'd finished shucking what little clothing remained.

Ray slid his arms around Egon, mouthing at the hollow of his neck. Janine curled around the shorter man from behind, her fingers toying with Ray's nipples, which made him giggle and wriggle. Egon wasn't sure where to put his hands, but Ray's waist seemed appropriate. He brushed against Janine's skin, and noted her reaction as she sighed.

A few rotations later, Ray's square hands were holding Egon against the covers as Ray swallowed him. Janine's own hands were wandering, toying with herself, stroking Ray's back, playing with his hair. Egon was gasping, moaning, forcing himself not to thrust and losing that battle.

He squeezed his eyes closed as volcanic pressure started to build. A pair of hands, gentler than Ray's, skated across his chest. Janine's. She found one hardened nub and pinched, just enough for him to feel, as Ray's tongue worked some magic spell in cuneiform.

Egon threw his head back in abandon and growled as his whole body throbbed and pulsed. He felt Ray kiss him, and opened his eyes to catch the smaller man leaning back to kiss Janine. "Your turn, sweetie."

Egon slid behind her, cradled her in his arms against his chest, as Ray nudged her thighs apart and brought that talented tongue to bear against her clit. On the one hand, it was the best position he could think of to watch Ray as he worked on her. On the other hand, since she seemed to be gaining pleasure from his participation, it was the least he could do.

On the gripping hand, he found he was enjoying it.

He slid his arms around, his hands cupping her breasts, as she arched her neck back against him, moaning wordlessly, eyes closed, legs tensed. His mouth found her ear, nibbling it gently as her back bowed and her hips bucked.

When she came, she called out both their names, Ray's first.

\---

These two bouquets each had _three_ red roses in their centers, their stems braided. Janine blushed when they were delivered.

"Someone's upping the ante," grumbled Peter.

"When are we going to tell him?" Egon whispered to Ray later in the workshop.

Ray shrugged. "When he gets around to asking. Until then, I think he doesn't really want to know."

___

The second time they all ended up in her bed together, one or the other of them - Egon rather suspected that it was Ray, but it had ultimately been a mutual decision - decided to try not taking turns.

Janine was on her back with her ankles propped on Ray's shoulders, Ray was buried in her and resting his weight on his arms, and Egon was kneeling in front of him, his knees on either side of Janine's head, his cock in Ray's mouth, and his hands on Ray's shoulders to keep his balance. It was an awkward and precarious position, and only the fact that Janine was so much shorter than they were was permitting it to work at all. They'd almost toppled the whole pile of them over twice already. Despite that, it was also proving to be a lot of fun.

Janine's voice was moaning and sighing somewhere beneath him. Ray was making contented humming noises around Egon's erection. Egon was growling and gasping by turns; he was getting close.

"Oh, god," groaned Janine, as Ray did something Egon didn't quite follow with his hips. He curled his tongue and sucked harder, and wrung a second "oh, god," from Egon. His eyes sparkled.

One of Janine's hands snaked its way through the tangle of arms and legs, and began stroking Egon's testicles. He shivered and almost knocked them all askew again, recovering his balance just in time for it to be thrown off once more as light and heat fountained up his spine.

Somewhere beneath him, Janine grabbed both his legs and began wailing; he felt her body tensing and trembling. The room seemed to be filed with light spilling off their bodies.

Ray threw his head back, added his own "oh, god, oh, god" to the chorus, and arched his back as he thrust into her. The light became a sun, a star, a supernova, as they screamed out their pleasure together.

They all promptly collapsed into a heap. Janine wriggled out from underneath them and spooned up in front of Ray. Egon curled behind him, one long arm draped over the both of them as their breathing evened back out.

"I love you," murmured Ray, and neither one of them needed any clarification to know that he was using the second person plural.

\---

The simplest thing to do, they discovered, was for Egon to take the subway back to the firehouse, and then for Ray and Janine to come in together the next morning. This caused Peter to complain to Egon that Ray and Janine obviously weren't getting any sleep, and wouldn't he think of the business? But at least he wasn't chiding him for getting in their way.

Winston waited until Peter wandered upstairs for a third cup of coffee, and then turned to Egon and said, "They were asleep already when you left, right?"

Egon nodded. Winston shrugged. "Just make sure _you're_ getting enough sleep, okay, m'man?"

"I am." Egon debated whether to explain the arrangement, but he wasn't sure they quite knew the shape of it yet. He decided to wait. If Winston wanted to know, he'd ask.

He wasn't sure if that was true about Peter.

\---

The third time, they were trying an experiment on a variant of mutual oral gratification - Janine sitting on Ray's face while Egon sucked Ray's cock. Neither Janine nor Egon had suggested closing the circuit; they could both tell that Ray was thinking about it, but he didn't bring it up, either.

Janine was quivering and moaning, surging into her second orgasm, when Ray shouted and suddenly geysered into Egon's mouth. Caught by surprise - normally he gave them more warning than that - Egon swallowed, and then sat up.

Janine crouched back on her heels and breathed, "Aw, I thought you were gonna leave some of Ray for me!"

"I'm sorry," gasped Ray, "it was just, you're both so wonderful, and you were coming again, and Egon does such wonderful things with his hands, and I couldn't help it."

She laughed, and leaned down to kiss him. "It's okay. Your dick is lovely, but I don't need it. You should probably take care of Egon's, though."

Her face was flushed, her pupils blown, her nipples hard and dark. A strange heaviness tickled Egon's lower abdomen. If he didn't know better, he'd think that they'd all developed an empathic rapport, and he was feeling Ray's desire for her, somehow. Well, they did all spend a great deal of time exposed to psychokinetic energy. Stranger things had happened to them.

Or, perhaps, just having more of an opportunity to exercise his libido was broadening its horizons.

Ray grinned. "Yeah, you two are lucky I have such an oral fixation and quit smoking."

Egon thought fast. Fortunately, he was quite good at it. "Actually, would either of you mind if we tried another experiment?"

Ray's grin spread from ear to ear. Janine, on the other hand, looked concerned. "Egon, you already said you weren't interested. I have absolutely no desire to 'turn' you."

Egon swallowed again. "It isn't that. I think . . . Peter said once that Kinsey Zeroes and Kinsey Sixes were almost nonexistent. I think, with Ray here, I might . . . " He glanced away. "Janine, I would like to attempt to make love to you. It won't change who I am. You already know I love you. If it doesn't work . . . "

"Then neither of us is going to be ashamed about it," Janine stated. She looked at him with a deeply appraising gaze. "You on top or me?"

"Let's try me and see how it feels." She nodded and lay on her back, thighs spread. He looked at her labia, and felt nothing in particular - but her eyes were still full of sex and desire, and there was something undeniably appealing about her breasts, pointed nipples and soft roundness. Ray hunted for a condom and rolled it down Egon's erection, then lay down on his side next to Janine.

Egon slowly lowered himself into her. It felt better than it looked. She hooked her legs around his waist and pulled herself up as he started to rock his hips.

"You're so beautiful together," murmured Ray, his voice thick.

"God, Egon, you feel so good," Janine gasped.

"So do you, Janine." It was true. Not as good as Ray did, perhaps, but his body was moving of its own accord, and he could already feel the steam building.

"Wanted this for so long, oh, god, so long," she breathed, her hips swaying underneath him.

"So hot," whispered Ray. His cock was half-hard again; he reached down and began stroking it, almost absently.

"Faster," begged Janine, and Egon obeyed eagerly. Her eyes were glassy; a single tear escaped the corner of one aqua eye and slid back into her hair.

"I wish you could see yourselves; god, I'm gonna come again just watching you."

"Ray, touch us, I want to feel you too," she moaned, and the hand that wasn't busy trailed between them, feeling the flat plane of Egon's stomach and the gentle roundness of her belly.

Ray moaned, Janine gasped, Egon groaned, and the three of them were breathing in unison, soft noises and wordless sounds building to a crescendo as they sped up -

Janine came first, dissolving into a writhing, howling abandon underneath him, and he felt her throbbing around him. Egon curled his toes and thrust into her, short, sharp, deep, and then Ray growled and shuddered next to them; Egon arched his back once more and let go, let the fire and lightning in his groin consume him completely.

This time he was the one shouting both their names.

When he could see again, Janine was smiling and crying and kissing him, and Ray was murmuring the word "wonderful" over and over.

Egon kissed both of them, deeply and passionately. "I think," he said, testing his voice to see if it still worked, "that I would still be unable to do that without the presence of another male. But the experiment appears to have been a success."

"Just call me Igor," Ray grinned. A pillow fight promptly broke out.

Denial is a funny thing. But so is the truth.

And so is love.

\---

When Peter stumbled downstairs to his desk, a single floral arrangement waited for him on his desk in a tall jade-green vase.

A background of ferns and baby's breath held up a field of about a dozen small irises. In the center was a single rose, white at the tips with a deep crimson center. Three roses at the very edge of the bouquet, an identical soft red, made an equilateral triangle around it.

He picked it up to inspect it. No card.

Janine's voice behind him almost made him jump. "Nice. From Josie?"

"No, she and I broke up three weeks ago. She was starting to get too serious. Said I spent too much time and energy on my job." His lower lip twitched. "They all say that after a while. Even the ones who are only dating me so they can be seen with a Ghostbuster." He shook his head. "Anyway, this looks like it's from _your_ secret admirer. You sure you put this on the right desk?"

"Positive." She smirked. "The delivery girl said specifically it was for you."

"Hmm." Peter's eyes narrowed; now the mystery was personal. Not that it hadn't been before, but this allowed him to admit it.

Janine took a couple of steps towards him. "That reminds me - I got two tickets to the Mets game on Saturday from my brother-in-law. You want to go?"

"Shouldn't you be taking Ray?" Peter's eyes were suspicious slits.

"He's not the least bit interested in baseball. Besides, he and Egon were going to be working on the slime removal thingy." She smiled, guilelessly.

"You still shouldn't be asking someone else out on what looks like a date," Peter lectured.

She shrugged. "Oh, if that's what's bothering you, Ray and I aren't exclusive. We agreed this was going to be an open relationship from the beginning."

"What?" Peter looked confused. "But . . . I thought you guys were serious."

"We _are_ serious. We also happen to have an open relationship." Her eyes were teasing. "Really, Dr. V., for someone who's been around the block a few times, you're kind of a square, aren't you?"

"I am not," Peter huffed. "I just . . . didn't know." He glanced at the flowers again, gears turning behind his eyes. "Sure, I'd love to go with you."

"Great!" She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. A faint blush rose to his face.

From his precarious position leaning over Ecto's engine, Ray smiled.


End file.
